


Teach Me to Hurt, Teach Me to Heal

by JamieisClassic



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Coming Untouched, M/M, Mentor/Protégé, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Semi-Public Sex, Sparring, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29785638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/JamieisClassic
Summary: Sparring goes a little too far and Zagreus has to bandage Achilles. The closeness affects them both in unexpected (but not unwanted) ways.
Relationships: Achilles/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	Teach Me to Hurt, Teach Me to Heal

**Author's Note:**

> This is crack and probably makes no sense but like... listen let me have this. Almost tagged for egregious and unapologetic overuse of ellipses so... you know... be warned ;)
> 
> This is only my second fic in the fandom so I'm still trying to work out characterization and how I'm writing people, please be gentle.

Zagreus grunted as Achilles once again flicked his attack away with seemingly little effort. For all he was a god and the man was an – albeit demigod – shade, it was clear which of them was the superior fighter and though Zagreus knew that was why he had been chosen as his instructor, that didn’t make it sting less. It seemed that even when doing what he was good at, the only thing he was good at, he still failed.

Resolved not to prove his father’s assessment correct, he shook himself and tried again, rushing forward with his blade raised and swinging down toward his mentor. This time, though, instead of actually trying to land this blow, he dashed to the side, changing his weight at the last moment to cut a slash at Achilles’s upper back. As the blade fell, he felt it strike true and his chest filled with elation... well, until he heard the shout of pain that turned that elation to ice-cold dread.

Dashing backward so the blade wouldn’t cut any deeper, he watched as blood began to pour down Achilles’s back in a line from the meat of his right shoulder all the way to back of his ribs on the left side, about where his elbow was in height. It was an ugly wound, gouts of blood flowing from it and deep enough to show bone, and suddenly a very new and altogether strange feeling bubbled up in his chest – the need to heal and help and fix. Where it came from he couldn't say, perhaps some instinct of his father’s or his mother Nyx’s that he’d never had occasion to see, but whatever it’s source he found himself dashing about in search of bandages and, upon finding some, returning as quickly as his burning feet would take him to his wounded mentor.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled under his breath on repeat as he tried to sop up the blood with a clean cloth and place the gauze correctly so that he could start to bandage him. Whether what he was doing was even moderately correct he couldn’t say, but it felt right and, well, Achilles was technically already dead anyway.

As he pressed the gauze down and began to wrap the bandage under his left arm, around his chest and over his right shoulder, Achilles finally spoke, “Don’t apologize, lad. You struck a good blow and I’m proud of you for outwitting me with that feint.”

Zagreus just sighed, stepping closer to his back to make sure his bandages were staying in place across the man’s chest. “Still, I should have the control to not hurt you this badly. Sure, most of what I may fight will need to be killed but what if I’m not trying to land a killing blow? You always say I need control, sir, and this wasn’t control.”

Achilles made a sound as Zagreus continued to wrap the bandage, though he couldn’t tell if it was one of disapproval or pain. “Lad, you need to stop being so critical of yourself. Learning is a process that requires mistakes, and usually a great deal of outright failure. You landed the blow, that’s a success, even if you had less control than you should it’s still progress. Do not berate yourself so greatly for a mistake all men make at one point in their life. We are not immovable mountains of control. We have emotions, lad, and sometimes they take over.”

With his words, he turned his head to look at Zagreus over his shoulder and Zagreus became quite suddenly aware of just how close they were. Standing there, nearly nose to nose with only Achilles’s shoulder to separate their faces, Zagreus could swear he felt his beloved mentor’s breath against his lips, and had to turn away before he lost control of himself once again.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he murmured, turning his attention fully to his bandaging efforts and refusing to look him in the face.

Not looking at him, as it turned out, did nothing to mitigate the fact that he could _feel_ his frown and that only served to make his hands shake and his knees weak. Gods he hated disapproval, especially from Achilles, and even if he knew, somehow, that he was probably misinterpreting the man’s expression that didn't stop it from aching through his chest like an arrow from Artemis’s bow. As the bandage ran out, about partway up his pectoral on the right side, Zagreus pulled close and wrapped his arm under Achilles’s on the left side and around his bicep on the right while leaning his head over his shoulder so that he could tie it off properly.

When the knot was done, secured so that the bandage wouldn’t move, he finally turned his face to look at Achilles. He froze. They were a breath apart in this position, noses nearly brushing, and not only that but the warm fondness, the approval, the... the... the _love_ in Achilles’s expression was like another arrow from an entirely different god right through his heart. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he closed the distance between their mouths.

For a second, it was bliss. A soft, perfect kiss that, in that one quiet moment, had no consequences and no implications. Then reality crashed back in and he realized just who it was he’d kissed, and everything fell apart. He stumbled back, ashamed of himself, but Achilles spun and caught him by the front of his chiton before he could get very far.

When made to speak, an apology poised on his tongue on instinct, Achilles stopped that as well, covering his lips with his thumb. “Do not apologize, lad, you’ve nothing to be sorry for. I am not so helpless as to have been unable to turn away from the kiss had I wished to.”

That... was fair, Zagreus supposed. But that meant... Given the thumb over his lips he was unable to ask, so instead he did the next best thing: he let the tip of his tongue peek between his lips and taste Achilles’s skin in hopes that his reaction would answer the question burning in his mind. When the man’s eyes darkened, pupils slightly more blown then they’d been a moment earlier, and focused on his mouth, he knew with certainty that he wasn’t overstepping any boundary they had any desire to uphold.

Opening his mouth a little more saw Achilles yielding to his movements, allowing him the freedom to move despite seeming reticent to stop touching him, and with a smirk tucked into the corner of his lips, Zagreus wrapped his tongue around Achilles’s thumb and drew it into his mouth. His skin tasted of salt, leather and metal, but it wasn’t the taste that had heat racing up his spine. No, it was instead the way Achilles watched him, eyes dark with lust and jaw clenched in an effort to remain in control, that was turning his guts to a pool of magma hot enough to rival Asphodel. Gods but he wanted him, terribly, and had for so long he wasn’t even really sure how or when he’d come to feel as he did... for so long, in fact, it felt like it was simply a part of him.

He was derailed from his train of thought by another knee-weakening wave of pleasure when Achilles decided it was a good idea to curl his thumb, pushing the knuckle hard against the roof of his mouth and scraping the nail over his tongue. Zagreus moaned, eyelids fluttering, and wished desperately that he could be even slightly less enthusiastic about such a small thing, though he supposed finally getting what, who, he wanted in combination with a very sensitive mouth meant he was bound to seem a little more into this than most. From the look on Achilles’s face, though, his enthusiasm was not in any way a deterrent, and when Achilles decided to push his thumb in a little more before dragging it back out, nail lightly scratching his tongue, and repeat that motion a few times, Zagreus stated to suspect he wasn’t the only one who was enjoying it.

Whining pleadingly around his thumb, he groped forward until his hands found Achilles’s belt and started to undo it. Achilles made a sound deep in his chest, nearly a growl, and stepped closer into Zagreus’s space to twine his spare hand into his hair and tug ever to slightly. He drew his finger out of his mouth, wiping it over Zagreus’s cheek as he moved to take a grip of his face on both sides, then pulled him into a branding kiss, all heat and tongue and teeth. When Zagreus had his belt undone and his chiton opened enough to get a hand on his cock, Achilles broke the kiss to allow him to drop to his knees, no guidance or encouragement necessary given his eagerness.

There was no hesitation in putting his cock in his mouth, if anything he did so with a barely restrained need that nearly consumed his sanity and the hands gripping his hair were doing nothing to help him keep himself in check. Achilles groaned as he sank down on him, the petal-soft flesh of his shaft sliding easily on his spit-slick lips until he was stuffed to his throat full of his mentor and quickly slipping into some other place mentally where all that mattered in the entirety of existence was how his lips stretched around him, how his jaw opened to make room and how his throat spasmed in anticipation and want of him. Without quite meaning to, he whimpered, and Achilles’s hips jerked forward in response which only made him moan again.

It turned into a vicious though deeply satisfying cycle where everything he did seemed to spur Achilles into motion and every motion seemed to spur him into further actions that made Achilles move. The grip in his hair was painfully tight, his thrusts rough enough to make his throat sore and his jaw ache, but it seemed his own cock only grew harder with the treatment. Not that he didn’t know that about himself already, but it was strange to have it affirmed outside of the context he was used to.

“That’s a good lad,” Achilles grunted, thrusts speeding up, “Very good for me. You look beautiful on your knees.”

There was a reverence to his voice that was making any sense of groundedness dissipate like smoke, and combined with the praise, Zagreus could swear he was close to coming despite not having been touched. Achilles didn’t hesitate to be harsh with him, his grip punishing and thrusts wicked, and yet there was a gentleness to him as well in the way he cooed, the way his thumbs brushed the roots of his hair where his other fingers yanked it taut. The combination was intoxicating, so deeply arousing he felt like he was constantly losing himself, like he was falling perpetually upward into increasingly light headspaces. His body was aflame and his heart rejoicing, and there was not a thought in his head but for the sensation of Achilles fucking his mouth.

At some point he became aware that Achilles was losing pace, his thrusts becoming jerky and uneven and he had the presence of mind to pull back enough as the man began to come to make sure he did so in his mouth instead of his throat. He wanted to taste him, he needed it like air, and when the salty, musky splash of cum hit his tongue he felt something in him release, like a cup poured too full of wine finally spilling over. It took him a moment to even realize what it was, the ecstasy of Achilles’s taste on his tongue so distracting he wasn’t fully aware of his body, but when he did come back into himself, he realized that the aching throb in his cock was gone and that his chiton felt vaguely cool and sticky.

Achilles started to pull out of his mouth and though he wanted desperately to reach up grab him, beg him wordlessly to let him stay there with his dick in his mouth, his body was too wrung out to move in time to catch him. The hands in his hair were soft now, too, gently petting and stroking over his scalp in praise, and he felt sleepy and distant in a way that made him wonder if this was all some strange dream.

“Good boy,” Achilles murmured as he continued to pet his hair, “It’s your turn now, my prince.”

His mind took a moment to catch up, but when it did he simply giggled. “I already did,” he slurred, “Already came.”

“You...” Achilles sounded startled and Zagreus cracked his eyes open to see him staring down at his crotch in disbelief. “From just that? You liked it that much?”

“Yeah.” He let his eyes fall shut again, floating in the afterglow and nuzzling into Achilles’s hands.

Achilles made a needy, wounded noise in response before kneeling down and slowly getting a grip on him, positioning him just right so that when he stood again, Zagreus was lifted into the air with him. He made a worried sort of sound, thinking about the wound he’d dealt his mentor that had started all of this, but before he could squirm out of his grasp Achilles put his worries to rest, “I’m all healed up, lad, don’t worry about me. You know us shades recover in strange ways down here, there’s no need for concern. Let’s get you to bed.”

And so he let himself be carried into his room and laid in his bed, Achilles’s strong hands not leaving him once. He was coming back to himself, bit by bit, and he knew now that this was something better either discussed in depth or not ever repeated or mentioned again. Hesitant as he was to admit his affections, he also knew he would never be able to pretend it didn’t happen and so he resolved himself to swallow his fear and tell Achilles how he truly felt about him. If worst came to worst... well, best not to think about that.

Opening his mouth to speak, though, he found his tongue leaden and stiff, his throat raw and uncooperative to anything other than a soft groan, and Achilles simply leaned down and kissed him before he could find the energy to speak.

“Just rest, lad, I think you’ve more than earned it,” he instructed, petting over his hair and kissing his forehead, “I’ll be here when you wake up, we can speak about it then.”

Before he could even respond, he was following orders and drifting off, feeling more at peace and happier with himself than he had in a long, long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I only know one porn ending and its "And mc falls asleep content" and honestly I'm not sorry. Comments and kudos fuel the little mouse in my brain that comes up with this bullshit, and thanks so much for reading ❤❤❤


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